


Paper

by RedFoxOfWallStreet



Category: Original Work
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-15
Updated: 2019-04-15
Packaged: 2020-01-13 16:23:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18472627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedFoxOfWallStreet/pseuds/RedFoxOfWallStreet
Summary: Wait for the printer, stack it up, staple it, repeat. Wait for the printer, stack it up, staple it, repeat. "Do you like routines?" They asked. Sure, -I said- I love doing the same task over and over again. Why would I hate it? Why would I hate being stuck on something I truly don't want. Wait for the printer, stack it up, staple it, repeat. I mean, this paperwork isn't going to even affect my situation. I wish I could change it. Would you change yours?





	Paper

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is my first time writing something, or uploading it to an online platform. You guys be the judge. Would you like more? Yes? No? You haven't read so you can't judge? Well. I'll write more if you guys like it, that's my goal. I hope you do, this has been in my head for... a while now. Around ten years. I really hope you like it

**Chapter One**

No lights

      Some people may say that I'm just, and I quote, " _Lazy excuse of a human being, and just a pathetic worth-less-than-furniture worker"_ , and you know what? They may be right. It's 10 am, and I should've been at work at 8:30. _Eight thirty,_ that time always brought back memories I wish I didn't have. I remember school, those were good times. Walking around, not a care in the world, I remember I had this cool lunchbox which I knew, and everyone else knew, was mine. That lunchbox had the coolest flaming design printed on it. It was the best starter in a conversation.

       One day I got too early at school, which didn't bother me that much. The morning sky was still damp and greyish, the huge avenue behind me was not busy at all. I remember a truck passing by my right, and just by the time I turned around this guy was looking at me. I remember his jacket. Brown dusty leather, washed off by time I guess. The next thing I know, I was on the floor maybe in shock, as the guy ran away with my lunchbox and whatever money I had in my pockets. The gatekeeper didn't get there until twenty minutes later, and he wasn't very nice to me, or at least, not as nice as I'd like someone to be in that situation. I can also remember the bitter taste of the coffee he gave me until my mother could come and pick me up. He wouldn't give me cookies.

      My point is, this morning felt like that morning, however, instead of the bitter taste of coffee, I had this bitter taste of being fired. I knew I'd be fired this time. It would be the third monday on a row that I get late, so I figured it'll be best to don't even show up and just accept that I had no job. You see? That's why people go around saying things about me. I am like that, and I, with little effort, earned it. 10:15 am. Gosh, won't the clock go a little faster?

      I looked down at my feet, well, the feet covered by the wrinkled sheets, and moved them. Yup, they were mine still. A thing I did from time to time was to pretend this body I have wasn't mine. Weird, I know, but if I focus enough I get the most bizarre experiences. I was at the bathroom once, and I almost felt like floating out of my body. 10:17. God damn it, I'll stop looking at the clock. About that bitter coffee, I sure would love a cup right now, and I hope I still have some from last night. I don't remember if I served myself my last cup, or if I thought _Damn, this is almost the last cup._ I sat up on the bed, pushing the sheets aside as they slowly got colder and colder. I looked out of the window, cloudy, cold, and just a few doves perched on the half-dead tree down on the street. I lived in the third floor of the cheapest flats I could find close to my ex-job.

      I didn't have much, but what I had was mine. I won't be describing what I have though, I might be poor, but I'm not proud of it. So, once I was back on foot I started to put on my clothes. Those damned rigid pants, the freezing cold shirt with those stubby buttons which would never button up. The _oh so glamorous_ tie that matched my pants. And finally that horrible coat we're forced to- wait. We? I had almost forgot I'm fired. I sighed, patting myself a bit before walking straight back to my room. I stripped as fast as I could, no experience by the way, don't think wrong of me, and I put on a shirt, my cargo pants, and my long trench coat.

      As I walked through my lobby, and into the kitchen, I saw someone sitting at the table. It was so brief, I swear I saw someone. However, when I stopped and looked back there was nothing but my backpack on it. Is my mind playing some tricks on me? Once in the kitchen I got myself my cup, put the coffee machine to work, and started searching for bread. I know, this is just me describing my morning. If you wanted to see something special, kid you were sooo wrong. There's nothing special about a brain-deflated University drop. Yes, I dropped University. It wasn't for me. 10:30 am. I waited for the coffee machine to be over brewing the drink, so while it heated up, I went back to the lobby. I like to call it lobby, but it's just the only one room that works as an eating station, working, and playing station. This coffee wasn't working. Why was this machine taking so long to heat up? I looked behind it to see if it was plugged. It was. I checked the configurations, nothing wrong. I looked around and couldn't figure out the problem. Then I started thinking _Wait. If the machine is plugged, the water okay, and the settings allright. Could it be...  
_

       And as soon as I could, I looked around searching for a switch. Once I flicked the plastic piece... nothing happened. This was just great. No work and no electricity. What was I going to do? I had around ten bucks in my pocket, so I thought that I'd maybe go out.  I may grab some food from the food carts around, and maybe a coffee. This would be a cold day without coffee otherwise.

 

11:00 am

      I could hear the empty echoes of my footsteps down the staircase. It was one of those old square-like stairs, with that annoying square center where you could peek all the way to the first floor. I say annoying because I always thought someone could fall, or my phone would fall, or my keys, or I could accidentally push someone over the edge. Maybe that last was less likely to occurr, but not less concerning. The chapped wood steps made a noise from time to time, the noise of old wood. You can imagine it. As I approached to the exit door, pass the reception where a little man of elderly age rested inside his little office, I could see the fuzzy shadows and silhouettes of people passing by. It might not have been a busy day for vehicles, but people did get moving.

      Sometimes I wonder what would it be like to be a guard. The guy from the reception always looked so bored, so used to people. He must've been the equivalent of worn-off in a human being, just watching his whole wrinkled body gave me chills. To take my thoughts away from that shady entity, let's focus on the outside. _Outside_. I have always thought outside to be an adventure, but not any of those disney-like adventures, or the " _I'm so depressed and so special, listen to my deep vision of the world"_ adventures. I think of outside as an opportunity, or as paperwork, death, missery in most cases, and in very, very scarce situations _hope._ Oh! This guy finally is taking a turn to better things! Maybe he isn't the goddamn piece of shit he described. Nah, or am I?

      The thing about hope is the following. Now, let me make up something good to keep you hooked with this bullshittery, alright? I see hope as being able to take control over a situation. I _hope_ I can afford this x-brand good or food. Sometimes I can, sometimes I cannot. I have, however, seen a different type of hope in other people's faces. As an example, long ago I saw this little girl looking at one hell of a display. In the inside, some fashion clothing. Tsk, tsk, tsk... poor girl, she would objectively NOT fit in ANY of those clothes. She was almost the width of the display window (just kidding... I _hope_ ). So? She had hopes that one day she'll be able to wear one of those... and I bet she could kill two birds with one stone by saving the money she used for food. She could afford, and wear the clothes. You can judge me later, it's my story and I will tell it the goddamn way I want.

      Xenophobic thoughts aside, I liked being outside. Even though I disliked most people on the street; disgusting litter throwers, rushers and pushers, pickpocketers, etc, I liked watching them. I like to think that everyone has their own inner world inside of their head. What would they be thinking? Is someone fantasizing in a sexual way with others? Or maybe somebody is thinking of how easy would it be to push someone into the way of a vehicle?... think about it, cars pass by fast, and it takes just a little push to ruin somebody's life. Anyways, where was I? Oh right! People. Oh, and my misserable dilema. Where could a coffee stand be?

      I took the fifth avenue, as usual, going for a turn at the third alley entrance. I didn't know the name of the alley, I just knew I had to turn there. It was just so wired into my brain that I couldn't even miss it. After a short while I was passing by the food stands court; it was a narrow street, mostly because of the huge amount of food stands there were. I stopped by some sort of  mexican-like man, yelling something about coffee infusions and mixes. I thought I'd give it a try.

      If you knew me, you'd know that I tend to try new things. I like adventures and such, and new experiences, and new people. I live a pretty boring life so, new faces were always welcome. I looked at my cellphone, and the digital clock laying over the blury bed of my lock screen read twelve o'clock. It's been a hour now?... damn. I paid the dolar fifty for the coffee then started walking down this street. I haven't tried the coffee yet, it was tongue-melting hot.

      As usual I would go down to the subway, rushing through the sets of stairs, bumping into people, pushing them. I would be cursing at my luck and how unfair some situations were. Whenever I went outside I transformed into someone different, my gaze would turn into the automatic non-friendly shit I always have in public. I sometimes wonder _Why do I even bother doing things?..._ This time, however, was not as usual. I took my sweet time to go downstairs, step by step, careful so my coffee wouldn't spill or burn my hands. I let out a heavy sigh, thinking about all this turmoil inside my head. One may say that we're a bundle of nervousness, anxiety, stress, and raw feelings. Too focused on the oneself, and not even thinking about the big picture. In the big picture I'm simply one man, not a friendly one, taking his time to go downstairs with a cup of coffee. Remember when I said that I wonder what people had in their minds? Now I wonder if someone else asks that to themselves. I hope somebody from the crowd looks at me, thinking, _"What would that man think?"_ That thought makes me feel a little better.

      Once I reached the C platform I walked along the side of the now old yellow strip. It slightly bothered me to see people trespassing that yellow strip. Everyone literally has the whole platform to stand, yet they chose to trepass the one thing they're not supossed to. People are weird. Another thing about me, I liked to follow the rules, as long as it served my purpose, which was nothing but to have a purpose. I slowly approached to a set of seats by the wall facing the train line. I sat on one of the seats, the very far right  since the other end was occupied by an elder person. I started sipping at my coffee, which I ended up throwing in the bin. The damn taste was horrible, what a nice way to waste a dolar and fifty.

      Here I was, coffeeless, clueless, and just wanting to watch people rushing in and out of the train. A few minutes passed and I could hear the echoes of the train engines. Yes, engines. It was an electric train, with engines linked with  others to make them work as a single unit. I just sat on my seat, watching people push their way in, and push their way out. It was a funny spectacle watching the faces of the people waiting and not getting inside the train.

      As I was there, sitting on the cold steel that made for a bench, I started to actually look around at the station. There were a lot of open spaces allowing me to look at the floors over above me. I could see the guards just standing there, looking at people's faces, scanning their clothes with a look. I thought they played the tough guy game. Well, they had to. There was a little girl yelling at her father, asking for some sort of food that I couldn't grasp over the heavy noise of the train. I started to watch a woman, she was-

\- Don't be late.

      I was interrupted abruptly by the hand of a stranger hovering over my gaze, dropping a slightly heavy envelop on my hands. I was speechless at such act. Did he know me? Have I seen him? As I pondered over this he, without more words, had left me on the bench. He dissapeared into the crowd that exited the train station. I was frozen in place, gripping the envelop on my hands, watching as his long coat matched other people's, eventually lossing itself. What had just happened?...

      I looked down at my hands, the snow white immaculate envelop seemed too well done to be for a nobody like me. The only explanation would be that I got myself into the wrong place at the wrong time. I stood up, my whole train of thoughts gone for the moment being. I didn't have plans for today until now, and I wanted to ask some questions to the weird guy. As I started to walk towards the staircase I tried to remember his clothes because I obviously didn't get to see his face. " _Don't be late"._ What the crap did he meant?

      My heart started racing at the thought of lossing the man, I couldn't just go home with no answer. I put the envelop inside the left pocket of my coat, bumping into people as I tried to rush upstairs to the next staircase, and eventually the exit. I could hear a few people yelling or cussing at me, not that it would matter, but it did make up for the fact I felt so disconnected with reality. This seemed wrong, too wrong. A random well-suited guy approaching to me, not only that but giving me an envelop and more questions than answers...

      I walked faster and faster, looking into the crowded sidewalks now out in the street. I felt lost in my own city, I felt alone as I didn't see sight of the guy. Where could have he gone? I slid my hand inside my pocket, only to be rewarded with the burden of this not being a dream. I felt the soft edges of the envelop, neatly folded for the receiver to read. I didn't stop myself when I suddenly saw him. He was across the street, getting away!

     - Hey!- I yelled, starting to jog towards the strange man who did nothing but walk further and further. I quickened my pace, holding the envelop tight against my body, trying to focus on the man, trying to clear my mind. I could feel as my senses became stronger, hearing people louder, perceiving lights brighter, oddly bright. Too bright to be honest. I looked briefly to the right, just realizing that the loud people were not being loud, but yelling at me. For a brief second I saw the faces of those on the sidewalk, myself in the middle of the street, and the truck just seconds away from hitting me. I heard the loud noise of rubber against damp asphalt, and next thing I knew was pitch blackness.

 

2 pm

 

 

_"Mom, but I don't want to go see grandma. I... I just don't like it! It's unfair, why do I have to?.."_

_The thirteen years old boy asked, strapped on the front seat of an old Honda. His mother was driving, nobody else on the vehicle other than them. There was a very tense atmosphere enclosed in such little space, it could almost feel as your eardrums would blow up at how pressured was the air. The faint smell of cigarette could still be smelled through the clothings of the young boy. Despite his own protests, his mother didn't seem to be bothered._

 

 

A high pitched constant noise tore the slumber off my mind as I opened my eyes to an almost blinding white ceiling. I couldn't feel my eyes, nor my legs or anything actually. There was this unpleasant tingle runing through my body, reminding me I was still alive... hardly. I looked around me, not being able to focus my sight on anything else other than blurry images and flicking lights. It did hurt though, very much hurt. I felt as if my eyes were being sucked out of their socket. I close them shut, slowly but steadily starting to freak out. This was clearly not my house, and certainly not an hospital room.

After a few minutes of inner debate and realization of my actual status I opened my eyes again, squinting hard to try and guess whatever I could see. This time, however, the image was clearer. What I thought to be some neatly painted white ceiling was in fact a poorly installed ceiling light dangling over my head a few feet over me. The actual ceiling was made out of some wood that had probably seen better days... 10 years ago. I very carefuly turned my head to my sides, trying not to force my sight into any bright light that would hurt it again.

On my right side there was a metal trolley in which top shelf a few bone colored medical equipment was connected. The plastic casing was old and stained with years of handling, and the cords were patched with small pieces of tape. They were dangling down to where I couldn't see, only to rise up to my... wrist.

"W-wait... wha... idfs..."

I soon enough realized my mouth had been closed for longer than I'd like, and that my tongue was as numb as my self steem. I laid there, starting to groan lightly in a petty cry for help.


End file.
